


Three Years Gone

by Copper_Viper



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-28 02:49:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10822182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Copper_Viper/pseuds/Copper_Viper





	Three Years Gone

Evan Hansen found himself, for the first time in three years, in a state of complete calm. It was probably a false calm, but he rolled with it.

            The funeral itself had been surreal, a dream, and he wasn’t entirely sure it had happened.

            He had been the only one attending.

            And he left, still slightly unsure as to why he had bothered wearing dress pants and a white collared shirt, his tie perfectly knotted, his hair combed to perfection.

            As he drove, he questioned why he hadn’t cried. He should have. But he didn’t.

            He didn’t put much thought into it.

            Maybe it was some by-product of his anxiety and depression he wasn’t aware of. Being hit with such an emotionally taxing event that he felt nothing.

            He kept driving.

            Maybe he’d end up in a crash.

            Hit by a semi that had spun out of control.

            The same fate that had happened to the person he just witness be buried.

            Any other time, he would have started hyperventilating. Panicking. Unable to do anything else, much less drive.

            He kept driving.

            Go on autopilot, distancing himself from what he was doing.

            Maybe he’d end up in a crash.

            He stopped at an intersection; he wasn’t that far removed from reality.

            He kept going.

            Kept going, hardly registering that the trees around him were a brilliant shade of gold.

            It wasn’t autumn. The sun was sinking. Night was coming, and Evan Hansen still kept driving.

            Red. Maroon. Purple. The sky itself was a muted rainbow when he stopped the car. A gravel inlet on the side of the road, leading to a little-used path.

            Car locked. Not bothering to check twice, three times. A very non-Evan thing to do.

            He walked. Following the path he knew so well, that he could navigate in the gathering twilight with relative ease.

            Evan Hansen. Willing going into the woods. In the dark. Alone.

            He veered left, taking a trail smaller than the first.

            The woods were quiet. Were they always quiet at night? He didn’t know. He didn’t put much thought into it.

            Walking, walking, stumbling over a root not seen, walking, stopping.

            Climbing.

            A tree he not wanted to be near for three years.

            Willing climbing it.

            One foot after the other. He should have been concerned over how well he knew the path up the trunk, or how his dress pants were probably going to be ruined. But he didn’t.

            He reached up a hand, feeling a jagged knob. Three years had not smoothed out what had happened.

            He briefly wondered how long it would be before the tree forgot.

            In three years, he hadn’t forgotten.

            He wondered if he would ever forget.

            He let himself sit down, keeping his back towards the trunk.

            Out came his phone. No new messages. When were there ever any new messages?

            Opening up an app. He started typing.

            Any other time, he would have worried that the person he was texting had changed numbers. That he would send a message to some random number in Oklahoma, like that one time in his sophomore year in college.

            But he didn’t.

            He sent the message, not caring if it went to who it needed to go to.

            He was calm.

            Ten minutes had passed. No reply back, and it was now night. Twilight had come and gone.

            Twenty minutes, and his phone vibrated. Not a single vibration, a string of vibrations.

            His text had been concerning enough that the other person had called.

            He debated on answering the phone.

            He did.

            “It’s been how long, three years? And you’re choosing to talk to me now?”

            “I need someone to talk to.”

            Jared fumed before saying, “Alright, but make it quick.”

            For the first time that day, Evan felt something. He started crying. It had been a long time since he had done that.

            “Remember the falling out I had with everyone three years ago? And how no one would talk to me, and how I only had my mom to turn to?”

            “Fucking hell Evan, don’t tell me…”

            “Her funeral was a few hours ago.”


End file.
